


The Afterlife

by EbonyGaze



Category: Friday the 13th Series (Movies)
Genre: Abuse, Mentions of Violence, Other, Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:34:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25450993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EbonyGaze/pseuds/EbonyGaze
Summary: Not long before heading to Camp Crystal Lake, young Jason dreams about losing his mother to a looming figure. When he wakes up, Pamela comes to his aid to comfort him however she can.
Kudos: 6





	The Afterlife

Thunder roared. Dark clouds enveloped the night sky. Forest trees came to life suddenly, menacing smiles splitting their bark covered faces in half. The ground was damp, soggy and cakey to the feet that moved along it. Little Jason only had his mother to his side, a quivering bundle in her grasp as she moved aimlessly through the ominous forest. The only guidance he had to rely on was the color of her sweater: a pastel blue, the blue that the sky was on sunny days. But this time, it was a dark blue that marinated the stitched fabric of her sweater. Although she seemed to be moving as though she knew the way out of the area, both were equally astray and desperate for a safe haven.

  
  


Together they ran through areas that they couldn’t see. Stars dangled high above the drops of water, dimmed by a watery sheet in the sky. But they looked down, in constellations of monstrous figures and faces as to complement the malice of the scenery. Fortunately for Jason and Pamela, moonlight illuminated the trees, outlining them in a bright blue color, serving as landmarks for a sense of guidance. With every step, grass accumulated around Jason’s ankles, scratching at the achilles tendons in his lower legs. Brown sludge splattered around the bottom and sides of his feet, crusting over his heels as the night stretched out longer and longer. Poison oak, twigs, and rocks sent bolts of pain shooting through his inflamed nerves. Moving in what felt like every direction possible, Pamela kept his small hand secure in her own as he followed her like a puppy, a hunting knife in the other, hoping that they would continue to be lost together, if being lost was their only option in these desolate woods. Rolls of thunder scared him, but they kept him alert, and her senses keen.

  
  


For a moment, she was frozen stiff. As stiff as a board. What Jason failed to see made her even more aware of the dangers lurking in the bleak depths of these woods. This was it. Jason’s lopsided face was buried deep into the back of her sweater. A hulking figure appeared as a silhouette in the darkness, not moving but she could tell that whoever it was was going to strike at any minute. Once it stepped forward, she could make out the contours of a face. Not very well, as heavy shadows casted over the important features. 

  
  
  


But its towering height, its stocky build, its energy… it may have been Elias, Jason’s father.

  
  
  
  


A puddle of tears soaked the bottom of her sweater, bleeding through to her plaid undershirt. Jason was gasping and sniffling against her lower back, sensing something wrong about his mother’s stiffness. Protectively her hand found his back, holding him tightly in place as an encounter began to unfold, arms tighter than stretched rubber bands.

  
  
  


“Stay away from my son,” Pamela growled, like a bear braced to protect her cub. “Whoever you are.” 

  
  


Within moments, his mother shrieked. Her warmth was snatched from him. Where did she go? His little mind could not process this right away. But when he looked up, he found her held by the wrist, being pulled away by a large man — seething, burning in his clothes. Breathing with inflated shoulders. Shaking convulsively. Not saying a word. He cried at the top of his lungs, until they ached in wear. With whatever strength she could muster, Pamela fought and thrashed around, his name ripping from her croaky throat. The knife fell and clattered, tumbling into a sludgy puddle of mud that stained Jason’s knees and the cuffs of his shorts. Paralyzed by fear, he could only cry back, helpless in his muddy place. A bulbous neck turned and then appeared the face of the monster, his eyes glossed over with apathy and ire. He looked familiar, like his father. Jason, in dismay, recoiled and fell to his knees, his head hanging to his chest. The trees’ grins widened, and they began to laugh around him the less visible she became. As did the monsters in the sky, their exaggerated faces laughing in unison, mocking and hollering. The thunder exploded, following the laughter of the trees and stars. Nature was cruel enough to place him in this vulnerable state, where even his own mother could not save him; where nobody could. Each cry for her seemed to weaken and die in the air, the deeper she was dragged by the dastardly monster… into the unknown. 

  
  


Hyperventilating, Jason’s body shot up from his mattress, throwing his contorted covers from his feet. An insurmountable fear washed over him — that dream was too real, too vivid to only be an illusion in his mind. He curled his trembling knees and wrapped his arms around them, fitting his face between the gap they formed, sinking into the darkness of his bedroom. Tears welled in his eyes and rolled down his thighs. Before any further trauma occurred, he found himself under his blue blanket, in lieu of the heavy rain that poured viciously from the night sky overhead. His clothes weren’t soaked; they were dry and clean. He felt the warm temperature of the room and not his mother’s warmth. He heard tree branches tapping the misty glass of his window, which did not laugh at him; heard the gentle whistling of the night air, and not the thunder which left his ears ringing. He saw the stars through the window, glowing in an innocent light, wadded in bundles and not cruel grins when he lifted his head. 

  
  


It was a nightmare.

  
  
  


“What’s wrong dear? Did you have a bad dream?”

  
  
  


Taking a breath, Jason looked up from his knees, nodding meekly. The breath was one of relief. His mother was still here, alive, dressed in nightwear, not her usual sweater that the rain had drenched. Her right hand did not wield the hunting knife that he remembered being poised to use in their defense. After pulling his door behind her, it reached for his light switch and fell to her side, nothing indicative of anxiety. He watched her come to the side of his headboard, walking with nimbleness. She looked worried, much like she was in his dream, but nowhere near the same degree. Nowhere near the anxiety, desperation, and primal fear that encircled her and himself — rather, tenderness and her gentle touch. She sat on the edge of his mattress, Jason sliding over, placing a hand against his pudgy cheek. Unconditional love tingled in her gesture, a sad smile tugging at her rosy cheeks as she looked at her son is his state of distress. 

  
  
  


“What happened in this dream?”

  
  
  


“We got lost in the woods and a scary man took you away from me,” Jason said, choking on tears. Pamela wiped one away with her thumb, continuing to hear his childlike perspective on the horror. He detailed the atmosphere of the woods, the weather, what they were wearing, what the behemoth silhouette looked like as she was held hostage by his vise-like grip. His mother grabbed both of his cheeks, rubbing them with compassion. 

  
  
  


“I’m scared of that happening to you.” Pamela’s heart fell and shattered into tiny shards inside of her. But she knew this was true. She felt the same way about losing him. Her only child.

  
  


“I know, honey,” she responded, her lips making their way to his bulging forehead. “And I’m scared of losing you, too. I don’t know what I’d do without you… you’re everything to me, Jason.” Her words prompted her grin to grow, lips curling in bittersweet melancholy. 

  
  
  
  


“But there’s something you should always remember. You promise to remember for me?”

  
  
  


Docilely, Jason nodded his head, tears slowly coming to a halt. His mother smiled, setting a hand on his shoulder. 

  
  
  


“Nobody lives forever, Jason,” she warned him, features puckering into a serious furrow. “One day, you and I will go someplace new, and we will get to live another life after we die.”

  
  
  


“Really? That’s what happens when people die?” Jason asked in childlike wonder, his eyes shimmering with interest. Despite the overwhelming realization that he will die someday, he continued with questions. Death and mortality didn’t cross the minds of children. One would believe that it’d be too soon to burden a child with a new reality to live with. But Jason didn’t feel daunted at all. If anything, he was curious about it.

  
  
  


“Yes, honey. It’s called the afterlife. Some people won’t make it to Heaven because of bad things they did when they were on earth. But good people get to live in a beautiful place. Good people like you, Jason. You’re destined to do great things because of how special you are,” Pamela smiled, pulling Jason into her arms. In good heart, her hand found the back of his lump covered head, stroking it with forthcoming comfort. 

  
  


“My sweet, innocent Jason…” she mused pensively, staring off into the luminous moonlight that glazed the floorboards of Jason’s bedroom. She felt his lips twist into a smile against the silk of her nightgown. Elias was gone… murdered... no longer a threat to her son’s safety, or her own. Serenity had made its way back into their quiet home, all of the beatings, abuse, and negligence over, never to occur again. Old worries would not resurface… the stink of booze on his breath, his belt, the burning sensation of his whips, welts, crumbling drywall, her bare, trembling legs. Wounds he left still remained open or not fully healed — sleepless nights, scars, the engraving of those terrifying memories into their subconscious. Jason wasn’t a monster, contrary to his father’s belief. He meant no harm to others, even to Elias during his alcoholic episodes. He was a shy child, soft-spoken and mellow at home and during the rare occasions when she’d take him out in public with her, although he was a bit awkward around strangers. With all of these thoughts in mind, she suddenly felt even closer to him, her guard even higher than before. He was the child she always wanted. 

  
  


Still, with all due respect, she wasn’t an angel herself, and knew she didn’t have the right to make a judgment call and assume Elias’s place in the afterlife. But in the end, he was nothing except a bloody pile of severed limbs. And Jason was protected. 

  
  


When she’d begin taking him with her to Camp Crystal Lake for her new job, she’d hoped that she wouldn’t fail him, that bringing him would work out in her favor, as well as his. Maybe he’d make friends and enjoy himself, a nice break from being home for the summer. Trusting others… was easier said than done though. After learning about Jason’s nightmare and bearing their experiences with Elias in mind, it was a liability to make him feel safe around others.

  
  
  


“Even when we die,” Pamela began with a quivering lip, pulling little Jason away by the shoulders to look into his eyes. “I’ll always be with you. I’ll always be here for you. And I’ll always love you. Never forget that.” She ended her sentence with her palm against his cheek, thumbnail following the curves of his features.

  
  
  
  


“I won’t Mommy,” Jason promised, sniffling. He would go on to keep that promise as a grown man.

  
  


“Good.” Pamela stood from his bed, her warmth still lingering where she sat, and left a kiss above his right eyebrow. She found a teddy bear by his bed and set it in his hands before preparing his covers for him. That warmth and love dispersed and wrapped around him when she brought his covers over his now reclining body. Her hand found the outline of his waist, rubbing the blanket that covered the small slope. Savoring her touches, he wished her a good night and held the stuffed toy against his chest. She drifted away to turn his light off, opening his door and cracking it before leaving, new amber light from the hallway pouring in through the slit. With the soothing warmth of the bear's faux fur against his shirt, and his mother’s words stapled to the forefront of his mind, he felt at ease. The scary man wouldn’t haunt him again in his sleep. He’d stay in the foreboding woods from which he came, keep his scary face masked by the shadows for the rest of the night. For the rest of Jason’s life. 

  
  
  
  


“Sweet dreams, dear.”


End file.
